


Snapshot A Day in a Life

by AllisonMadness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:35:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllisonMadness/pseuds/AllisonMadness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in Harry's life as seen from an outsider's pov. One-Shot. No warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshot A Day in a Life

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is a one-shot that came to me in my sleep.
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful beta's Badgerlady and Crescent.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own the original characters, JKR owns everything else. I'm just playing in her world.

**Snapshot - A Day in a Life**

She was changing her name, there was no doubt about it. Just as soon as today was over, she was going to become Gertrude. Or Edith. Or maybe even Matilda. Anything but Harriet. Harriet was as good as gone from this moment on.

She had known all her life that she'd been named for _him_. Both of her parents had lived through that last year of the war, and once she had started at Hogwarts they had sat her down and told her of the despair, the rage and the fear. Especially the fear. Fear of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, fear of their "professors", and the fear of dying at any moment. They talked of how half of the school had wound up hiding in the Room of Requirement until _he_ had come and saved them all.

Her parents had been married within a month of finishing that year of school. The Lost Year they called it because no one had sat their O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s. Harriet had been born less than two months later, at the end of August. No one mentioned _that_ particular counting error and she had never asked. She heard the stories from others her own age of how so many students had found comfort in someone else during those days, the days they were all convinced were their last, but she wasn't going to think about her parents doing _that_. Parents didn't do those things, especially not hers.

By the time she had finished Hogwarts, there were a total of thirty-seven students named for _him_. Harry, Harrison, Harriet, there had even been one poor girl named Harriana. It was utterly ridiculous and most of them were being identified by their middle names within two weeks of starting their first year. She had been one of the few who had actually been called by her rightful name, mostly because she had been the first one, the oldest child of the baby explosion that had happened after the end of the war. It had become something of a joke, especially when the Headmistress had been forced to expand the Great Hall and the dormitories to hold all the extra students, and by the end of third year she was known as Harriet the First.

Now at twenty-two and an Auror for the last eighteen months, she was contemplating the horror that was her name. It wasn't the first time she'd thought about changing it to something else, but this time she was serious. Tomorrow, she was going to be Florence, or Beatrice, or Olivia. Or maybe she would even go with one of those American names, Amber or Heather. Her parents would never forgive her, but anything was better than this.

~hp~hp~hp~

It started like any other day. She was buried in the paperwork that all Aurors were required to complete at the end of a mission and her hand was aching before ten in the morning. She'd gone through two quills and half a bottle of ink before she finally had to stop. She was on her way to fetch a cup of tea when she heard her name being called.

"Harriet!"

She turned to see Auror Ian Williams motioning to her from his cubicle. He was two years older than she was and they had dated casually for a short time last year, before deciding that dating coworkers was a really bad idea. She waved to him and he left his cubicle to jog up next to her.

"I'm off for some tea," she said. "Is it urgent?"

"I just got a memo from Michael Brooks. You're wanted in Interview Room One," he said. "They've brought in a suspect in the murder you were looking into last week."

"Really," she said, her eyebrows rising in faint surprise. "Do you know who?"

Ian shook his head. "No idea. They're keeping it quiet, so I suspect it's someone quite well known."

He stayed with her while she made her tea, leaving her with a cheery farewell at the door of Interview Room One.

She dropped her smile, arranging her face into an appropriate look of blank sternness, and opened the door. It was at that moment, when her mouth fell open and she had to clench her fist in order not to lose her cup of tea, that she decided on changing her name.

Sitting at the table, looking up at her with impossibly green eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, was _him_. Harry Potter. She looked in confusion at the other Auror sitting at the table opposite. This had to be a mistake. Harry Potter was the _suspect_? Who was the idiot who'd come to _that_ conclusion?

"Michael?" she asked and the other Auror looked over at her.

"Harriet," Michael said and his eyes, those brilliant green eyes, nearly bugged out of his head. She flushed and mentally contemplated the paperwork necessary for a name change. "Come sit." Michael waved at the vacant seat, and she took it, feeling like the world had tilted on its axis.

Carefully, she placed her cup of tea on the table, looking anywhere but at _him_. The silence in the room was deafening. Finally she looked up to see _him_ contemplating her. She took a hurried sip of tea to distract herself.

"You're Harriet the First," he said and she nearly choked as she swallowed the tea. "Lisa and Terry's girl."

"Yes," she managed to say and he smiled at her. _He smiled at her._ Suddenly she felt all of seven years old, when she had discovered just how famous the man she'd been named for was.

"It's nice to finally meet you," he said, holding out his hand for her to shake. Her heart fluttered and she flushed with embarrassment mixed with excitement, but she took his hand. He held it for a moment as she tried to compose herself, then let her go.

"Mr. Potter…," she began, but he interrupted her.

"Harry," he said. "Call me Harry." Her mouth dropped open for the second time in minutes and he laughed softly.

"I…I…," she stuttered. She clamped her mouth shut for a moment, then turned to look at Michael.

"Why are we here?" she asked. "Why is _he_ here?"

Michael looked at her, his expression serious. "Mr. Potter is a suspect and he's been brought in to be questioned. Right now we are waiting."

"For?" she wondered.

"Help," _he,_ Harry, said, shrugging. He tried to make it look nonchalant, but Harriet could see the tension in his shoulders. "We're waiting for help."

 _Well,_ she thought. _That was as clear as mud._

~hp~hp~hp~

Harriet watched as over the next few hours, Auror after Auror came into the room. Harry sat with his arms crossed, refusing to answer questions.

"Tell us what happened, Mr. Potter," one Auror demanded.

"No," Harry answered. The same answered he given dozens of times already.

"We can't help you if you won't let us." That stupid statement earned an astonished snort from Harry.

"You're not here to _help_ me," he stated. "You're here to close your case."

A few minutes later that Auror had left and another one came to take his place. Harriet stayed in her seat the entire time.

"You know that we'll just keep you here until you talk to us," the new Auror said.

Harry shrugged indifferently. "Are you going to let me contact someone?" he asked.

"Not until you talk to us," was the answer from the impassive Auror.

"Not likely," Harry answered. "I know how this works, Elliot. Remember I was an Auror myself for seventeen years and you worked for me."

Harriet said nothing to Harry the entire time. She just observed as Harry threw off question after question with short, flat answers that mostly contained the word _no_. A few times, one or another of the Aurors would try to get her to leave the room, but she refused. Something held her there, a feeling that the world would shake apart if she left Harry alone with a group of Aurors who only wanted a confession, no matter how they got it.

At one point, she and Harry were alone in the room. Quickly she pushed a bit of parchment to him along with a quill. He looked at her for a moment with startled eyes. "Hurry," she hissed and he wrote a short paragraph, folded the parchment, wrote a name on the outside and passed it back to her. She incorporated it into an interdepartmental memo and quickly sent it off to Ian with a note to forward the enclosed note immediately to the person it was addressed to. She tried not to be surprised by the name written on the parchment. It was the last person she would have expected.

"Thank you," Harry whispered as the next Auror came into the room to try to get him to answer their never-ending questions. Harriet smiled and fiddled with her empty teacup as the Auror pompously sat next to her, puffed up with self-importance. Harriet huffed a laugh at Harry as he rolled his eyes and waited for the same questions they had been asking all day.

When the door was flung open three hours later, stopping the current Auror, David Whitman, in the middle of his fourth unanswered question, Harriet was tired, angry and contemplating quitting her job along with changing her name. How was it that one man - albeit _Harry Potter_ \- could make a group of trained Aurors look like tantrum-throwing children simply by sitting quietly at a table? She was almost ashamed to be lumped with such a group. The only thing that stopped her from being completely humiliated was the grateful looks Harry would give her in between one Auror and the next.

All three people in the room looked at the person who walked in the door. One looked angry, another relieved. Harriet just felt a numb sense of gratitude that _someone_ was here who was on Harry's side. Even if that someone was none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Good afternoon," Draco said as he sat next to Harry at the table, arranging his pristine robes carefully around him and folding his hands on the table in front of him.

"Nice of you to come," Harry said with a grin.

"Sorry it took so long, I had to stop and have a chat with Kingsley before I came down here." At the mention of the Minister of Magic's name, Auror Whitman's eyes widened to impossible proportions. "Min…Minister Shacklebolt?" he asked with a panicked voice.

"Of course," Draco said calmly, although his mouth twisted up into slight sneer. "Do you know any other person named Kingsley?"

Harriet smirked as the Auror next to her started imperceptibly shaking. If she hadn't been sitting right next to him, she would have never noticed the trembling.

"If you don't mind," Draco continued, seemingly oblivious to the Auror's mental state. "I would like to speak to Harry privately."

Auror Whitman visibly gathered himself together. "Someone must remain in the room with you," he said arrogantly after a moment and it was obvious that he was trying to take back control of the situation. He turned to Harriet. "You may wait outside."

"No," Harry said. "Harriet will stay. You will leave."

The Auror scowled, his composure returned with a vengeance. "Mr. Potter, you have no say in the matter."

"Don't I?" Harry asked shortly.

"Would you care to go ask the Minister about that?" Draco inquired at the same time. Auror Whitman quickly rose to his feet and left the room.

"So," Draco said. "You're one of the Harriets."

Harry laughed with delight. "She's Harriet the First."

Draco's mouth turned up in a smile. "Nice to meet you, Harriet the First," he said with a snicker. "Do you mind if Harry and I retire to the corner to speak?"

"Not at all," Harriet said. "I'm sorry that I can't allow you to put up a silencing spell. I'll do my best not to listen."

"Thank you," Harry said. "That's all we can ask for."

Harriet grinned as Draco led Harry to the far corner. "I'm sure you could ask for much more, but unfortunately, it's the only thing I'm allowed to give you," she said cheekily and Harry laughed.

~hp~hp~hp~

Their conversation was whispered, with Harry leaning against the back wall, arms crossed over his chest and his face turned slightly away from Harriet's direction. She kept her eyes on the table for the most part, but could not help glancing up at them now and then. Draco stood in front of Harry, partially shielding him from view. His head was bent towards Harry's in a strangely intimate way and his hand was resting on Harry's forearm.

Harry shook his head at something Draco said and whispered back to him in a way that held frustration and urgency. "No," she heard. "I won't…" the rest was lost as Harry turned his head.

"Harry," Draco said, his voice rising slightly. "I don't know how much Kingsley is going to be able to do." A jerk of Harry's head and Draco's voice lowered again.

"If they want to charge me…" Harriet heard a few minutes later.

"They won't," Draco said.

"You don't know that," Harry said. Their voices had risen slightly. "I'm not going to give them anything."

Harriet cleared her throat noisily and both men fell silent. An instant later, they were whispering again.

Fifteen minutes later, Harriet was becoming aware of the fact that she was going to need to use the loo, and soon, when their voices came over to her again.

"I want you home today," Draco said.

"I do too, but…" Harry's voice was tight with unhappiness.

"No," Draco replied. "No. You're coming home today. I'm not letting you spend the night here."

"Draco, you can't push this."

"Yes, I can." With that, he turned away from Harry, looking over at Harriet. "Harriet the First," he said. "Thank you." With that, he left the room. Harry sat back down in his chair.

"Harry," Harriet said. "I need to leave the room for a minute."

Harry's eye's lit up with amusement. "I saw you fidgeting a few minutes ago."

Harriet laughed even as she blushed. "Some things can't wait, unfortunately."

"Go on," he said. "I can hold my own for as long as you need to be gone."

She nodded her thanks as she opened the door to find Ian standing outside.

"Ian," she said with relief. "I'm so glad it's you. Can you sit with Mr. Potter for a few minutes while I run to the loo?"

"Of course, Harriet," he said. "I'm happy to do it."

"Don't leave him alone with any of the other Aurors," she said in a low tone. "They're all out for his blood."

"Figures," Ian said, rolling his eyes. "He's either loved or hated and there never seems to be an in between."

She closed the door behind him and literally ran for the loo.

~hp~hp~hp~

She was gone for no more than ten minutes, but when she opened the door to Interview Room One, it was to total chaos. Ian was on his feet, trying to make David Whitman sit down. Auror Whitman was leaning over the table, yelling at Harry about Azkaban and life sentences, while Harry sat in silence, his face set in a blank mask.

"Auror Whitman," Harriet shouted as she entered the room. "Stop immediately."

Auror Whitman turned to her, snarling. "I don't have to listen to you," he snapped. "You just a junior Auror, a nobody."

"You may not have to listen to her," a deep voice said behind her, "but I daresay that you do have to listen to me."

Auror Whitman stared with horror as Harriet turned to see the Minister of Magic standing directly behind her, Draco Malfoy at his side. "You will desist immediately."

"But sir," Auror Whitman said indignantly. "We know that he was there, at the time of the murder."

"And did it never occur to you," Harry said suddenly, "that I was trying to save him?"

"What?" Auror Whitman turned to look at Harry. "What?" he repeated stupidly.

"I. Was. Trying. To. Save. Him," Harry said slowly, as if speaking to an idiot. Which he was, Harriet decided.

"Why…why didn't you say so before?" Auror Whitman looked as if he were thinking about fleeing.

"Would you have believed me?" Harry snorted. "No. You just wanted to believe that I was guilty."

"But…but…we have a witness." Auror Whitman was looking panicked.

"And that witness just confessed," Kingsley said and Auror Whitman drooped.

"Oh," he said.

"Yes, oh," Draco spoke up for the first time, crossing the room to stand behind Harry. Harriet watched with fascination as the two men stood with arms crossed, a formidable pair forming a wall of solidarity. She wondered how the two had become…what? Friends? Something else? She didn't know and would probably never find out. The Daily Prophet hadn't even reported that they were on speaking terms, so chances were that very few people knew anything.

"Auror Whitman," Minister Shacklebolt was saying. "You may take yourself home for the next few days, in order to think about what happened today. Come back on Monday with a better attitude."

"Yes sir," Auror Whitman muttered as he literally slunk from the room.

Minister Shacklebolt shook Harry and Draco's hands. "Come for dinner next week," he said to them with a smile. Then he turned to Harriet. "Thank you," he said, shaking her hand. "You did a fine job."

Harriet was stunned. "Thank you, sir."

After Minister Shacklebolt had left the room, Harry came up to stand in front of her. "Harriet the First," he said with a smile. "You are a wonderful Auror." He grasped her hand. "Your parents must be very proud of you."

Harriet gaped at him. "Harry, I…"

Harry winked at her and leaned in to whisper. "I'm glad you're the First. You do the name proud."

She was keeping her name, she decided as she watched them leave. It was a good name to have.

**End**


End file.
